“It’s seen better days.” Things have not been the same between us since…. “I’m trying to move us forward.”

She sighed.

“Okay, I get it. Roller shutter doors are not conventional coffee shop decor. But that’s what will be so great about it. Think industrial. Like an upmarket New York loft. Nothing a coat of paint won’t fix.

“Some things can’t just be covered up and forgotten about, Elliot. Some things can’t be fixed. ”

98 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog to submit your flash fiction, and read others’.

I’m with you on the mutual hate of updates, Rochelle. Have been resisting the new editor on wordpress too. I struggled to submit to the link up this week. Eventually, switching browsers helped. When in doubt, switch browsers. 😉

Like this:

“Stop eyeing the busty boss, and get to it!” Alan, commanded him, mouth twisting around a chewed up twig.

“I wasn’t even looking at her bust – quick, she’s coming! Look busy!”

“I have been busy.”

A white summer dress breezed towards them, skimming slim calves. She tapped on the carved wood, sighed and cocked her head. “Boys, this is no good. It needs to be more… interesting. More depth. It’s too shallow.” The wind carried her off.

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Amarah tore her eyes away from David’s face. Focus! She shook fantasy images out of her head. Under the lamplight they studied the crime scene photo’s for the hundredth time.

“We’re missing something.” David pondered.

Reciprocation.

“The victim was alone. Husband’s alibi is watertight.”

“From all those tissues and drinks, it looks like she was upset.”

“We know they argued.”

“Yeah, still..” Amarah stared at the photo. Her intuition poked at something. She picked up the photo of the body. No lipstick. “There’s lipstick on some of those cigarette butts.”

“So?”

“Another woman was there that night. An unidentified woman.”

100 words

Wowee! I struggled with this week’s prompt. Wrote one story, deleted the whole thing. After repetitive attempts, this is the final piece. If it’s not up to scratch, I may have over-thought everything. What an awesome prompt, (courtesy of Yvette Prior) it really conjured up so many possibilities that it was difficult to settle on just one.

Like this:

He gazed at the delicate line of her neck, tracing with his eyes along her collar-bone.

“Josh, are you listening?” Carrie cocked her head to one side, blue eyes sparkling, blonde hair flowing with the breeze.

“Huh? What were you saying?” He slipped his hand into his pocket.

“So you always come here?” she looked at the bubbling creek, and bare trees.

“It’s better in the spring.” He tried not to think of the other women.

She shivered. “It’s cold.”

He drew a blade from his pocket. Only the trees heard her screams, but they would never tell.

98 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Karen Rawson for this week’s prompt which inspired me to write my thriller-date-gone-horribly-wrong flash fiction.

Like this:

Viggo awoke to the aroma of spiced tea. Smiling sleepily, he reached across the bed towards her but his hand fell on worn sheets.

He bolted upright. The boat lulled gently in the tide.

A single cup of tea sat on the counter by the sink. And a packet of his favourite cigarettes.

Lighting one he blew grey smoke around his tiny cabin. He loosed a slow sad chuckle. She was saying goodbye in the best way she knew how. Tempest, his beautiful gypsy woman of never-ending horizons was gone.

He sipped his tea. Cold from waiting too long.

99 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by leader Rochelle. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less.

She turned her gaze away, not wanting to shatter what took so long to mend

But something in his hazel eyes called to her through past lies

She dared another sideways glance a strange rising courage at the end

Pushed her into the unknown, where hopes renew and dreams begin

The second time their eyes met she did not flinch when the ripping sounded

A hazel gaze pierced through flimsy veils wrapping tight around the wounded

99 words

I read Erin Hanson’s poetry recently and was just so ultra inspired that I simply had to attempt my own. Last time I was inspired to pen rhythmic verse was in high school. So forgive me if it’s not perfect. The 100 word limit was quite challenging this time!

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by novelist and artist, Rochelle. The challenge is to write a full story in 100 words or less.

White doves cooed and shuffled about in their cages. Restless. The sun was out, a windless day yet Penelope’s mind was fogged over. Thick with anxiety. She glanced sideways at the rows of silk clad guests, smiling expectantly. The minister’s voice cut through the mind-fog, “Penelope?”

The groom’s frown betrayed his embarrassment.

“Penelope?” The minister nudged, “Do you take Jasper to be your lawful wedded husband?”

She could feel her mother’s eyes boring into her from the front row, urging her to finish it. She thought of the futility of marrying only in your social class.

And said, “I do.”

100 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. The challenge is to write a full story in 100 words or less.